Freedom And Fear
by The Vampire's Missus
Summary: A challenge fic. Smiffy and Gina are in dogged pursuit. Zain and Jo lead their teams on violent crimes investigations.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is part of a challenge at at msn group, The Big Bill Interactive.

Freedom And Fear Part 1

A lone figure walked down the track in the early morning light: Sgt Dale Smith, "Smiffy" to almost everyone else. He stopped as he saw the greyhound with the two women, "That scrawny fing?"

Gina nodded, "Yes Smithy. THAT scrawny thing."

Smiffy rolled his eyes and sighed, "What's it called? Kate Moss?"

Gina pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her favourite Sargent, finally shaking her head, "She is called Willo-the-wisp and she has a solid track record."

Smiffy shrugged and wriggled an eyebrow, "Solid isn't a word I'd use about that dog...come to think of it, dog isn't a word I'd use, more like rat..."

Gina sighed and handed him the leash, "Right Smithy, since you're posing as the handler, get some practice!"

Smiffy muttered, "Yes, Ma'am...C'mon 'Kate'", as he led away the bitch.

Sgt Pandora Galas from the Met's Dog Squad watched with a grin. She laughed as Smiffy tried to properly control the greyhound, "Didn't you ever have a pet dog, Smiffy?"

Smiffy scowled, "I did, but it got run over."

"Sorry mate. Basically, you just need to keep reminding her that you're Top Dog."

Smiffy smirked, "I think Inspector Gold's Top Dog around here!"

"Shh! She'll hear you!", sniggered Galas as she nodded at Gina, bringing over a thermos of coffee.

Later, in CID, Mickey watched in amusement as Gary managed to spill his can of coca cola over his new suit. Gary rushed to the toilets, a folder placed strategically over his damp crotch. Mickey turned to Zain laughing, "What a muppet!", before knocking Phil's coffee mug into his own lap. Thankfully the coffee was stone cold, Phil having decided to chat up a random female who had the misfortune to wander into his eyeline rather than finish his drink.

Zain exchanged a smile with Jo as Mickey rushed away.

Terry strolled in and smiled at them, "Awright? What's up?"

Jo flashed another smile, "You missed the half-time entertainment. Wet trousers competition!"

Terry raised an eyebrow, "Not sure I want to know the details...what's this?", noticing the gift-wrapped parcel on his desk.

Zain shrugged, "Christmas present, judging from the wrapping paper."

Terry nodded, "You should be a detective, you know. Observational skills like that." Terry opened the gift and took out the hairbrush with a wry grin, "Oh, very good. I like it."

Zain smirked, "I like how you didn't even try to keep the sarcasm out of your voice..."

Terry looked at the wrapping paper, "Maybe I should wrap it back up and leave it on the DCI's desk."

"Leave what on my desk?", Jack asked as he walked up behind Terry.

Terry briefly thought of making something up about a report, but instead held up the hairbrush, "Someone played a prank on me, Guv. I thought of killing my career by passing it on to you."

Jack's eyes twinkled as he looked at the group, "Well, if you can't grow it, then mow it! Anyway, briefing's about to start. Are we all here?"

Jo raised a hand, "Just about, Mickey and Gary had some last-minute ends to sort out."

Jack nodded as drier versions of Gary and Mickey tried to walk in casually, nodding apologies at the Guv'nor.

"Right, have a look at these prize beauties", Jack indicated the photos pinned to the wall, "Gavin Raynor - armed robbery, Jason Bradley - armed robbery and Wallace Stone - armed robbery and attempted murder. Stone is also a known dealer and a heroin addict, adding to his naturally charming demeanour."

Jack nodded to Zain, who stood up, "We know from Birmingham and Manchester CIDs that they strike several times in an area, before moving on. Looks like it's our turn. With any luck, my snout will have some info about which rock they're currently hiding under. DC Webb's my co-handler on this, so any feedback - ask me or Mickey."

Jack looked around the group, "Now, DI Manson and DS Nixon are on the Chan case, so won't be here much. DS Hunter should be back from court tomorrow at the latest. Teams: Zain and Mickey, who'll be checking in with the snout; and Jo and Gary, you two can check out their known associates and family. See if any live around here. Terry are I are working on the Abbott fraud case, but can help out if necessary. Right, there's plenty of work for everyone, so let's get to work!"

End of part 1


	2. Chapter 2

Freedom And Fear - Part 2

Smiffy sourly looked at the pile of paperwork on his desk. Always a small mountain, it seemed to grow overnight, and it wasn't going to get any smaller during his undercover work. He sighed and decided to knuckle down and plow through some of it.

A passing figure caught his eye, "Honey!" he called, waving his West Ham coffee mug.

Honey paused and turned, rolling her eyes as Smiffy smiled at her. "Yes Sarge. The usual, coming right up..."

Smiffy wriggled his eyebrow in thanks and started on his files.

Gary tapped some keys, frowning as he tried to spell the name correctly. Jo smiled and sorted through her list of known associates, trying to find any link between Stone and Sun Hill, apart from an 'S' and an 'n'.

Gary stifled a yawn, a dodgy curry had kept him in the bog for half the night and he was still a little delicate. He rolled his shoulders and grinned as a possible link came up.

"Gavin Raynor has an 'old friend' in town! Cistro Badejo", Gary pronounced slowly, "Er, attempted drug smuggling from about ten years ago. Nothing we know of since."

"Hmm, think it's pronounced Bah-de-ho, but good work. Got a current address?", Jo beamed.

Gary looked at the screen, "Ah, it's from the time of conviction. I'll check it."

Jo nodded and replied, "Well, I'll keep checking on the others. Dot the t's and cross the i's."

Gary nodded, then frowned, "Isn't that supposed to be the other way round?"

Jo grinned again, "Not as dumb as you look, Gary!"

Gary smiled, "Yeah, well..."

Meanwhile, Zain was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in frustration. His snout looked like being a no-show. Mickey checked the rear-vision mirror for the thirteenth time that minute, "He's not coming, you know."

Zain sighed, "Give it another ten, traffic's busy today."

"Give him a call. See if he's pissing you about or not.", Mickey replied.

Zain shrugged, "He gets nervy, he knows where I am and that there's money at the end of it for him. He'll be here."

Mickey settled back, "If I had a tenner for all the times snouts have ran me ragged and given me the old flannel..."

"You'd be a millionaire. You and me both...", Zain wearily replied, switching on the windscreen wipers as a series of drops splattered across the car.

They sat in silence watching the shop displays with their fake snow and tinsel, Christmas lights twinkling in the dreary afternoon light.

Out on patrol, Reg and Tony were in the thick of an RTA. A driver was pinned between the steering wheel and his seat, which had been forced forwards by the lorry now occupying the rear of his car. The car and lorry rested against a half-toppled brick wall.

Passers-by gawped at the wreckage, standing in the way as Reg tried to move them back. He tilted his head to speak into his radio, "Can I have an update on the ambulance, please. The driver's in a bad way."

Dean replied, "Should be within five minutes, Reg. Traffic's bad."

Reg sighed, "Tell me about it.", as he looked along the crowded high street.

At the car, Tony leaned through the side window, holding a pressure bandage against the man's stomach, knowing in the back of his mind it was a futile gesture. "C'mon mate. Hang in there!", he urged.

The man gurgled and whispered something barely audible. Tony frowned and leaned closer, trying to hear.

"Liz...", the man murmured.

Tony clutched the man's hand, "Who's Liz? Can I get her for you?"

The man sighed, his eyes clenched shut, "Back..."

Tony frowned, "Back where? Can you tell me your name?"

The man groaned and seemed to relax. Tony reached up to check his pulse, not finding one. He sat back on his heels, legs stiff. "Back?", he shook his head and his eyes widened as he noticed a child's shoe in the gutter under the car, along with debris from the car.

"Reg!", he yelled, trying to see inside the tangled mess.

Reg raced over, driven on by the sharpness in Tony's voice. Tony quickly glanced back at Reg, "I think there's a kid in the back of the car!"

End of Part 2


	3. Chapter 3

Freedom And Fear Pt 3

Gina surveyed the scene with a weary eye. She caught Yvonne's eye as the wreck of the car was lifted onto a carrier, ready to be hauled away, the sheeting hanging limply in the damp air.

A few feet away, Amber sighed as she unwrapped the police tape so the truck could pass through. Gina noticed a glint of tears in the PC's eyes, quickly disguised by a lick of the lips and reappearance of the customary pout.

Just half an hour ago, the street was busy with the fire crews, ambulance and police. Now, with the gawpers and shoppers herded away, it was like a Sunday morning. The pall of death hung in the air, seemingly mocked by the window displays blinking and racing.

The station canteen was subdued as Tony and Reg sat drinking tea. Tony looked up as June entered, "How are you two?", she asked quietly.

Reg nodded as Tony replied, "You never get used to it, do you? Poor kid, hope she never suffered..."

June nodded, "Honey says the lorry driver will pull through and should be able to talk to us soon. Smithy's going to notify the next of kin. Well, the registered owner of the car, at least. Still no ID on the driver yet."

Reg sighed, "I don't envy him, Sarge."

Smiffy watched the woman before him seem to crumple. Her regal bearing lost as she slumped forwards. Leela glanced at Smiffy and put a hand on the woman's shoulder, drawing her closer as she started to cry.

Smiffy hated next-of-kin jobs, he'd never got used to the raw emotions that spilled out, or worse, the unnatural stillness and blankness of shock.

"My family fled Eritrea for a better life, they wanted me to grow up without fear. To be free to choose. My parents died trying to get us out. Now you say my husband and child are gone, too...", Mara Hadera almost whispered the words, shoulders quivering. Smiffy searched for the rights words, but none could ever comfort someone who has lost everything. His mind wandered to the greyhound obbo - it seemed so idiotic and small compared to this.

Definitely a pub night, tonight...


End file.
